Leg Post 77
Leg Post 77 continues the Greek Legends with King Priam of Troy walking to his office in the Trojan Citadel to write his memoirs. As he sits down he is greeted by Peleus and Telamon - the sons of Aeacus that Priam and Hecuba had adopted and raised. The report that they are not doing well in maths and Priam expects them to do better and be more like their genius father. Decades later and Priam has grown distant from Hecuba, who has her own separate bedroom from Priam. Peleus is now the commander of the guard and married to Thetis, while Telamon is a rascal. One night he sits to write his memoirs again but suddenly a woman upon a gryphon burst in through the window. Earlier, Hippolyta is discussing her proposal to attack Priam with her friend, Bremusa, while observing the city from a vantage point. Ultimately, despite the protestations of Bremusa, Hippolyta uses her gryphon, Guelph, to charge into the citadel and attack Priam and draw enough attention that her fellow Amazons could kill the men and capture the girls to return to Scythia. Priam, however, shows no interest in duelling with Hippolyta and she finds that he is the exact opposite of the stories of violent rapists that she had been taught men are. Even when she removes her armour, he still refuses and asserts that he is a man of culture and art. She, instead, waits for the guards to arrive and Priam tries to make her leave without fighting. Peleus enters and demands that she surrender as they have already captured two other Amazons. Hippolyta dives out of the building with Guelph to rescue the two captives, one of which is Bremusa. She must first, however, disable the ballista else it would shoot down the gryphon. She commands the Amazon to retreat with the injured Bremusa while she attacks the ballista. Peleus arrives to duel her but she wins and then shows him mercy, believing he would do the same if he had won. She surrenders herself to be imprisoned when Guelph is out of range of the ballista but Priam assures her she will not be executed. Post The Raid on Troy Piyama-Radu, more commonly known as Priam, was wearing a silk nightgown of navy blue as the slowly walked along the corridor of his palace. It was connected to the mighty walls of Troy via a wooden bridge that could be destroyed should the enemy ever reach the top of the walls. It was very unlikely as he didn’t recall any mention of such an event from the future-sight readings when constructing the walls, but it was always best to be prepared. Fate was a funny thing and if it could be tweaked by some very determined would-be-breacher, then they’d find a way. He reached his office. He didn’t want to disturb his wife who would be sleeping in their bedroom by now. He went inside and found that the fire was already lit by the servants and his writing materials were on his desk. Writing memoirs had become a great passion of his in recent years. The art of writing was still relatively new in Greece, having been brought over to Greek shores by the Phoenicians a few decades ago, but the art had been even slower to reach Anatolia and the Trojan elite. He had only learnt to write a few years ago, taught to him by a very patient Greek scholar. Now he couldn’t stop. Each night he would write the day’s events, even if they were utterly dull. As he sat down he heard the creak of his door. He put the quill back down and looked up to see two boys poking their heads in. Peleus: “Nanny said we should say goodnight, Uncle.” Priam: “Well then, goodnight Peleus.” Telamon: “Goodnight, Uncle.” Priam: “Goodnight, Telamon.” They both bowed their heads but before they could escape, Priam halted them; Priam: “Tell me, boys, how fare your studies?” Peleus: “We studied maths today, Uncle.” Priam: “I didn’t ask what you studied, I asked how they’re going. Are you avoiding the question?” Peleus: “Uh…” He glanced at his twin brother for help but Telamon just shrugged. Peleus: “It was very difficult.” Priam shook his head with feigned disappointment. Priam: “Now that is a shame. Your father would be upset. He was a mathematical genius, you know?” Telamon: “Was he? I thought he was a builder?” Priam: “He was an architect, Telamon. Much more than a builder. He was the designer that builders worked for. And to make his buildings, he needed precise measurements and calculations. If he had been wrong on just one calculation, these magnificent walls would have tumbled down long ago.” Peleus: “What about mother?” Priam: “You already know that I wasn’t so close to your mother, Peleus. I don’t know what she was good at. If she was bad at maths, then that would excuse your performance? Is that what you were thinking?” Peleus: “No! I mean—I just…” Peleus: “I expect you to try harder tomorrow, boys.” The two boys nodded eagerly. They looked just like their father, Aeacus, in Priam’s eyes and it was often hard to see them without thinking of his lost friend. Just six years ago the walls had been completed and he had been talking to Aeacus upon the top of them when the attack came. They had found Aeacus’ charred remains there and buried him with a great deal of pomp and circumstance. His tomb was well marked with a great statue of the young man atop of it. Aeacus’ wife was so distraught that the doctors believed she would kill herself and her unborn sons from misery. Fortunately she went into labour, though early, and the boys were born safely. She, however, absconded. She was unable to attach herself to the children and the last Priam heard, she had fled back to her homeland in Greece. The responsibility to raise Peleus and Telamon, therefore, fell unto him and his wife, Hecuba. They expected the boys would be fine older brother-figures to their own children one day, though that day had yet to come. Priam soon realised that he and his wife fell naturally into stereotypical parental roles. He pushed them in their education and skills while she threw affection upon them. The two boys then scurried off and left Priam to his work. He tapped his chin and decided to begin with his memoir with his evaluation of his adopted wards’ progress. -- Two decades later. Priam was wearing a cotton nightgown of brown. He had stopped using silk, which now felt uncomfortable against his skin, and opted for the more robust cotton. His hair was thinning quite badly on the top of his head now that he had entered midlife but it wasn’t yet grey but remaining steadfastly black. He kept his beard thick but well-trimmed in defiance of the loss of head hair. He usually wore many rings on his fingers, one of the things he liked to indulge in collecting, but at this hour his fingers were bare. He glanced at the door to his wife’s room. The door was closed and he supposed she had gone, as usual, to bed early. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even seen her. It was probably last week, he deduced, for a public stroll. Those were important times for the people. They had to see their monarchs as a unified and stately pair. He wondered if she was still beautiful when she slept as he remembered. He continued on until he finally reached his own bedroom. There he found the fire lit and his desk ready for use with his thick book of memoirs sat atop of it. He unfastened the binding. He decided it would write about the boys first. He had met Peleus earlier in town with his new wife, the pretty nereid Thetis. She had quickly become talk of the town as it was rare to get magical beings in Troy. Telamon was still single and his bad temper was likely to always impede him from gaining one. The wedding ceremony for Peleus and Thetis had been a grand one and even several gods attended, especially Aeacus’ old friends Poseidon and Apollo. Poseidon had granted the couple a pair of fine horses which he claimed were immortal. Priam thought this was a stupid gift. Immortal horses were only useful if you, too, were immortal. Otherwise they’ll outlive their own riders. Of course Bacchus was there, even though he wasn’t invited. He invited a foreign god, who only called himself HorseGod, who was very impressed with Poseidon’s gift. Persephone was also invited since it was winter and she had left Hades for a few months to visit Olympus. She reported that Eris, the god of Discord, was quite annoyed that she hadn’t been invited. This came as a surprise to Priam as he had never had any kind of dealings with that particular god and couldn’t think why she would have wanted to attend a stranger’s wedding anyway. Another at the wedding was the famous hero Hercules. He had merely been visiting Anatolia and was automatically granted an invitation by virtue of his fame. Priam couldn’t help but wonder what their children might be like. Half-nereid and half-human. Surely the child would have unnatural beauty but perhaps also some magic potency? Or perhaps some kind of marvellous destiny. He hoped he would live to see what became of such a lineage and that those children may come to call him grandfather, or at least uncle as Peleus once had. Priam put the quill down and mused at the page. His handwriting was getting better in his old age. In the corner of his eye, a shadow caught his attention. He looked out of the large window. A thin, gauze net was up to keep out insects but the large, approaching shadow was clear against the moonlit sky. He barely had time to get off his chair before the nets burst apart and a giant gryphon landed in his bedroom with a young woman upon its back. Hippolyta: “Surrender yourself, King of Troy!” -- Not long ago. The night air was crisp but not too cold. The Amazons were used to living in the mountains of their homeland so the cold was rarely a problem for them and the thick, fur-lined cloaks kept them both warm and concealed. They, like most Scythians, usually wore very brightly coloured armour sets to strike intimidation and even admiration into their foes. Hippolyta wore a bright gold metal breastplate with red-stained leather beneath. When conducting raids, Amazons were as stealthy and cunning as they were fierce. To this end, Hippolyta also had a utility belt around her waist. Inside its pouches were various tools for a wide variety of circumstances she might find herself in – lockpicks, healing herbs, needle and thread, smoke bombs, poisons and her belt happened to be a very special belt. Usually called Hippolyta’s Girdle by the other women, the girdle was a gift from her father, Ares, and imbued immense strength on the wearer. With all her tricks and the powerful artefact, she was a master warrior in every scenario. She appeared as a typical Scythian girl. Very tall, blonde, white-skinned with the tapered eyes common in far-Asians. Her small band of raiders were mostly Scythians too, but some were of alternate races from the southern continent of Africa. These women were usually captured slaves, who had been owned in the Hittite Empire, or their daughters and were free to join the Amazons. One of the women of Africa was her trusted friend, Bremusa. Bremusa had been a little girl was she was taken by the Amazons, under a raid conducted by Queen Molpadia herself. She, and her mother, were slaves in Hattusa itself before they were sold to a rich man on the borderlands of the empire. There they were to be groomed into sex slaves, despite the young age of Bremusa. Fortunately the raid freed mother and daughter from this life and were inducted as Amazons. Bremusa was the same age as Hippolyta, even born on the very same day. Hippolyta taught Bremusa the language of Scythia and they both trained together on a daily basis. They were known to be inseparable and yet they bickered with each other endlessly – a sign that they cared deeply about their relationship. Gold was a colour reserved for the Amazonian royalty, so Bremusa’s breastplate was silver while the leather was stained blue. She also wore gauntlets and chaps of metal, giving her more protection than Hippolyta was wearing. Bremusa: “If you go in there alone and they capture you, you know what will happen to you, Lyta?” Hippolyta: “They’ll give me tea and biscuits?” Bremusa: “Be serious.” Hippolyta: “I hope they have my favourite. Those chocolate digestives!” Bremusa: “Fine. If you want to be gang-raped by—” Hippolyta: “I’ll be in and out before anyone sees me. This is my chance, Bree. If I go in there and threaten the king himself, the people of Troy will be terrified of the menace of the Great Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons!” Bremusa: “You’re not queen yet!” Hippolyta: “I will be! And I need to make a name for myself now! We’ve scoped out the place for the past week now. We know the patrols. We know their strength. We know that Priam goes to his room to write every single night and the exact time he does it. We even know when he shits, for the gods’ sake. Lucky even his bowels function like clockwork. It’s as good as done, Bree. I’m going in. I’ll give him a good scare, maybe even a nice scar to remember me by and then I’ll be back out here as fast as you like.” Bremusa: “As fast as I like? That would be point one of a millisecond.” Hippolyta: “Hur-de-hur-hur. You’ll slay them next comedy night, I’m sure.” Bremusa: “Bite me.” Hippolyta: “Who even says that anymore? It’s not the 90s anymore.” Bremusa: “What? It’s 1215. It won’t be the 1190s for another sixteen years.” Hippolyta: “Uh, right. I’m trying to say you’re outdated.” Bremusa: “You don’t even know what date it is, so shove that in your pipe and smoke it.” Hippolyta: “That is exactly what I’m talking about.” Bremusa: “…uh, drugs? You’re talking about drugs?” Hippolyta: “No! I mean your outdated references!” Amazon Warrior: “Everyone’s ready. Should we go, Princess?” The Amazon crouched down beside Hippolyta and Bremusa. Her cloak was thick and large and engulfed her size within its shroud. Hippolyta: “Yes. You follow Bremusa.” Bremusa skulked away, careful to keep her cloak around her person as she moved, while Hippolyta climbed down the hill towards the small patch of forest they had been using for cover during their reconnaissance of the city. In the thick of it she found her gryphon, which she had named Guelph. The beast had been a birthday gift from her mother a few years ago and she had been quick to learn to ride the monster. Few in the world rose such beasts and, instead, tamed the land-bound horses. Gryphons were extremely rare, on the verge of extinction, and were not known to live wild within the European world anymore. Now they were bred in captivity by a tribe of Scythians called the Arimaspi to the west of Scythian lands in the high Carpathian Mountains. Guelph was old and well domesticated, more suitable for a young rider. Older Amazons would often buy younger mounts, who were far more wild and rough but could reach much greater levels of speed and strength. Few Scythian tribes ever bothered with saddles whether it be on gryphons or horses. Guelph knelt down on his massive lion-like limbs. Though the hindlegs were indistinguishable from a lion, the forepaws ended with long, bird-like talons from each finger. They proved most deadly, able to tear through flesh like a hot knife. She jumped onto his back and gave his feathered neck a pat. Hippolyta: “Ho, Guelph!” The massive, brown-feathered wings beat a few times before achieving enough lift to take-off from the earth. They were tough and weathered and showed no hurt from snapping the thin branches of the canopy. Once above the trees, in the cool night air, she could clearly see the city of Troy. The walls were impregnable she had realised as soon as her raiders arrived in the region, but an air raid would do the trick. A prolonged attack, even from the air, wouldn’t last long. But her soldiers would be in and out in a jiffy. One or two girls per rider and they would ride home to glory. She would go first and draw attention, leading the soldiers inside the citadel rather than maintaining the walls. As they reached the walls, she called to Guelph; Hippolyta: “Cry, Guelph!” And cry he did. From his beak echoed a thunderous screech that would surely strike terror into the heart of anyone unused to their piercing cry. The soldiers were drawn by the noise. Arrows were notched, but she was still too high to get decent range. Arrows could naturally get across a great distance when fired high, but they were confounded by gravity when fired upwards. She had no such problems. She guided Guelph with kicks from her feet while she aimed and fired her own arrows in return. Kills would be unlikely. A single arrow against an armoured foe was rarely going to do much damage unless she got lucky, but it was a distraction and the soldiers had to bring the shields up in case she did, indeed, get lucky. She then kicked Guelph’s hide into a rapid plunge. She went much too fast to track and the darkness of night concealed her well against the dark stonework. She lunged through the window. The gauze curtains were torn to pieces and left underneath the gryphon’s mighty paws. Hippolyta: “Surrender yourself, King of Troy!” Priam fell off his chair. Hippolyta: “Good grief. Get up and face me in battle!” Priam managed to pull himself to kneel behind the desk but didn’t get up further. Priam: “What do you want, Amazon?” Hippolyta: “I just told you! I want to battle you!” She slipped from Guelph and drew her sword. Priam: “I am unarmed!” He glanced down at himself. Priam: “And I’m in my pyjamas!” Hippolyta: “It matters not! My mother regularly wrestles bears in her pyjamas!” Priam: “I don’t think that’s true…” Hippolyta: “You dare call me a liar!? That’s my mother you’re talking about, boy!” Priam: “Boy? I am a lot older than you!” Hippolyta: “Then I should be easy to defeat! Here!” She threw down her sword and then unclasped her breastplate. She snapped the lacing for the leather armour, which then also fell. She was now wearing just her white undergarments – a thin slip that was designed to stop the armour chaffing against her skin and a pair of tall white socks, also meant to stop her armoured boots rubbing the skin raw. Priam was somewhat lost for words. Priam: “I am not going to wrestle with a half-naked girl! Actually, I wouldn’t wrestle anybody! I’m just not that kind of man.” Hippolyta frowned at him as though he had spoken in a foreign tongue. Hippolyta: “What do you mean you don’t wrestle? Everybody wrestles!” Priam: “No they bloody do not. I read, write, sing and compose music. If you want to challenge me to a lyre-battle, then I can oblige you. Otherwise you’ll have to go elsewhere.” Hippolyta: “A lyre!? Only children play music!” Priam: “I assure you plenty of adult men and women play music. Is this really why you are here? Just to try to defeat me in personal combat? You waste your time, Amazon.” Hippolyta: “I should have known the people of Troy are cowards. You built big walls so you wouldn’t have to fight.” Priam: “It is not cowardice, it is simply a different way of life. Not everyone has to punch each other in the face. That may be the way of you barbarians but we are a cultured people here. What does it matter if you can hit someone? What good does that do?” Hippolyta: “This isn’t right…” Priam: “What do you mean?” Hippolyta: “You’re a man! You’re supposed to be violent. Or are you only violent with a sword in your hand? You’re not confident enough without a weapon to fight for you!” Priam: “Not all men, Amazon. Just as not all Amazons are like you.” Hippolyta: “You don’t want to kill me?” Priam: “No! Although you broke in here and threatened me, I probably should.” Hippolyta: “You don’t want to rape me?” Priam: “What!? Never! Despicable! How could you accuse me of such a crime!?” Hippolyta: “Isn’t that want men want? I was told that’s what men do.” Priam: “Not all men! In fact, I daresay, here in Troy such evil is very rare. We have better standards here than some uncivilised lands. We educate people about respect and care for others. Both men and women.” Hippolyta looked around the room, feeling very awkward. She could attack him anyway, she supposed, but then she’d be killing an unarmed man and that wasn’t the way a princess should behave. Some Amazons were driven by hatred and bloodlust but Hippolyta believes she should set a noble visage for her followers and not stoop to barbarism. She wasn’t even sure she believed him. He said not all men were murdering rapists but that didn’t sound right. The stories she was told growing up didn’t seem compatible with this. Even her mother said Ares, Hippolyta’s father, was mostly a bastard but he was also a god and not a normal man. Hippolyta: “Sure you don’t want to fight me?” Priam: “I am certain.” Hippolyta: “Not even a little? Doesn’t have to be to the death.” Priam: “No, thank you.” Hippolyta: “…” Priam: “…” Hippolyta: “Arm wrestle?” Priam: “Not even.” Hippolyta: “But I know you battled the Hittite Empire to free yourself! This whole city was founded on the back of your revolution!” Priam: “We fight when we must. We fought for our freedom and we continue to defend ourselves from oppression. But we will never fight for fun or power or as some proof of courage. That is not our way. You may slay me this night, but I assure you, Troy will repay your people with a ferocious war that will consume your land. They will fight for justice but not for honour. They will fight for freedom but not for wealth. They will fight for the safety of others but not for glory.” Hippolyta: “What am I supposed to do now then?” Priam: “Go home?” Hippolyta: “I will. But now I have to go back and tell them I couldn’t kill you or even hurt you.” She picked up her sword. Hippolyta: “Okay, I tell you what, how about a nice scar? Then I can tell people I drew blood and it will be sort-of true!” Priam: “I would rather not.” Hippolyta: “But scars are cool?” Priam: “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Amazon.” They then heard the approaching soldiers outside the door. Hippolyta looked at her sword and then to the door. Hippolyta: “If you will not fight me, then at least they will.” Priam: “Are you insane? There’ll be hundreds of them! You’ll be cut down in an instant! You aren’t even wearing your armour!” Hippolyta: “No time to put it on myself.” Priam: “I could help? Wait. No. That would be stupid. I can’t help you do that. But I can help you leave! Just go, Amazon. Tell your people that we are peaceful and mean you no harm and we can live in harmony.” Hippolyta: “Yeah, they won’t work.” Priam: “Why?” Hippolyta: “You’ll just be an easy target for raids. My cadre will be kidnapping some girls and killing their husbands or fathers or brothers even now.” Priam: “That’s—that’s barbaric!” Hippolyta: “Men have done much worse. More worse to us.” Priam: “Not every man is to blame for what some men have done! And those girls, they are not to blame either! Don’t steal them away!” Hippolyta: “They’ll have better lives with us!” Priam: “I highly doubt they will be happy you slaughtered their family!” Hippolyta: “Most of them are too young to even remember it happening. The rest we’re freeing them. You wanted to be free of the empire too, right? Same thing.” Priam: “Hardly! They didn’t ask to be freed, did they!?” Hippolyta: “All this righteous indignation is very cute, but I have a battle ahead of me.” Priam: “No! Go back and tell your raiders to let us alone! You can stop this nonsense! You’re killing innocent men and kidnapping innocent women!” Hippolyta: “Okay, I’m beginning to think it might be okay to kill an unarmed man if he is a big wuss. It’ll like putting an old, useless dog down.” Priam: “You don’t mean that. You have an honourable streak in you, clearly. You know right from wrong.” Hippolyta: “What we do may seem wrong to you and yours, but to us it is standard practice. I don’t see why it should change just because you whine on and on like a wet paper bag. Honestly, there are more jellyfish with backbone than you!” Priam: “Do you want me to beg? I will happily beg if it means you’ll spare them.” Hippolyta: “Utterly pathetic.” Priam: “I would happily render myself pathetic if it will spare people from your evil.” Hippolyta: “Evil!? We are not evil!” Priam: “You most certainly are!” The door burst open, finally, and a dozen guards leapt into the room armed with swords and spears. The captain of the guard marched in first and rushed to his uncle. Peleus: “Uncle Priam! Who is this half-naked woman!?” Hippolyta: “I am Princess Hippolyta the Awesome!” There was silence. Hippolyta: “Hippolyta the Great sounds better, doesn’t it? Just wanted to try something a bit more original than great… Hippolyta the Incredible?” Peleus stepped forth. Peleus: “Surrender yourself, Amazon princess. We have already captured two of your raiders and we’ll spare their lives if you—” Hippolyta: “Dammit.” She didn’t wait for the rest of his proposal. She leapt onto the back of Guelph. Several soldiers charged forward but the gryphon slashed his mighty talons and cut them both down with sprays of blood from their faces. She kicked him and he dove out of the window and back into the night air. She was, now, very cold with nothing but her thin, white slip to protect her pale skin. She soon saw the soldiers with their newly capture quarry. Guelph nosedived down and landed ontop of several of the guards who were stood too close together. Two of them were crushed beneath his claws while others were battered down by his wings. One of the two captives took the initiative and leapt to the attack and beat on the closest guard. The other Amazon lay on the ground, wounded. Hippolyta jumped from Guelph’s back and landed on a soldier who was getting up. She thrust the sword down into the back of the neck – between the armour on his back and the helmet on his head. Blood squirted onto her and looked all the more gruesome thanks to the white cloth she wore. She didn’t wait to bask in the sudden thrill of combat as she ducked beneath a stroke from one of the men still standing. She wrenched her arm up and her blade cut into his face. She rolled towards her two comrades and quickly cut the bonds around their wrists. As she reached the wounded Amazon she realised it was Bremusa. She shook her head. Hippolyta: “She always was a terrible fighter. Always needing me to save her stupid arse. Here, take her to Guelph.” The other Amazon did as bid and carted the injured Bremusa to the gryphon. Hippolyta was quick to take to the attack rather than wait for the men to recover. She slew one man who was crawling along the ground to his weapon before she took to action against another wielding a spear. In single combat a spear was a deadly weapon against a sword if used by the right person. Its reach was double that of a sword, allowing the spearman to attack and kill before the swordsman could even be a threat. A skilled swordsman, however, would be in the superior position should they make it past that initial thrust as the spearman would be defenceless at close range. Hippolyta was skilled. The man went down. Hippolyta: “Climb on!” The Amazon climbed onto Guelph’s back with Bremusa curled over before her. She used the reins to bring the gryphon around and towards the princess. Amazon: “Princess, it will be dangerous to take off on your gryphon! They have some kind of weapon. I heard the guards called it a ballista. It fires huge bolts that killed my own gryphon in an instant!” Hippolyta: “Where is it?” Amazon: “On the wall!” Hippolyta: “I’ll take it out!” She hopped onto Guelph, behind her fellow warrior, and the beast took off slowly. Once he reached level with the wall, Hippolyta hopped off. Hippolyta: “Keep low!” She rushed down the ramparts. Most of the soldiers had headed inside the citadel, just as she had anticipated, leaving it relatively unmanned. She saw the ballista further down the wall. It looked like a giant, mechanical bow and arrow. She cut down several men on the way. One young, and clearly inexperienced, man she just shoved off the wall and heard him scream the whole way down. She snatched one of the torches from the wall and tried to burn the ballista but it wouldn’t easily light as the wood was old and thick. Even as she tried to get the fire going she saw the soldiers returning and heading down the walls straight towards her. She considered her luck – she could jump on Guelph now and try to escape. She could see from the design that the ballista could reach a great distance though. The amount of tension in the bow looked far more powerful than a standard bow pulled by a person. Hippolyta: “Go! Get Bremusa out of here! Tell my mother I died fighting!” Amazon: “But princess! Allow me to take your place!” Hippolyta: “There’s no time! Go now! Go now and leave me!” Guelph flew over the wall and headed straight up into the sky. He could be clearly seen under the bright moonlight and without any cover from walls or trees. She knew she made the right choice. Peleus was at the front of the outfit. There were dozens of them and dozens more flooded the streets below. She couldn’t believe so many had taken the bait and rushed inside the citadel earlier but she understood the need to protect the king at all other cost. Hippolyta: “Hold, soldiers of Troy! I’m led to believe you are men of compassion! I shall surrender myself to you in just a few minutes’ time! Once my friend has escaped!” Peleus: “And why should we allow that, princess?” Hippolyta: “She has no captives, boy! Just one wounded Amazon. If you want, you can try to take this ballista to shoot her down but I swear to you I shall not go down easily. Many of you will die before you take this weapon from me. By then she may even be too far for you to hit so many will die for nought. What will you do? Throw away Trojan lives or allow them to escape?” Peleus stepped forward. Peleus: “I will not risk anyone’s life…” Hippolyta: “Smart boy.” Peleus: “Except my own.” Hippolyta: “…brave boy. I did not get to fight your king, he refused me, so perhaps a captain of the guard will suffice.” Peleus: “You are unarmoured… then so shall I be.” He tugged off his own armour. Underneath he also wore cotton material clothes to protect against the harm of armour upon skin but his was simple brown and not coated in the blood of the enemy. He positioned his sword at the ready and approached Hippolyta. His soldiers watched on, at the ready, but keen on seeing their commander pay the impudent wench for the audacity and criminality she and hers had committed this day. Their swords clashed with a loud clang. Hippolyta always found that the noises of single-combat seemed tremendously loud when compared to the muffled sounds of war during a battle. Here each stroke was amplified as death was anticipated and eminent. In battle each death was just one in a string of countless deaths of men and women whose names and deeds would be nothing but a memory to their grieving family. He struck out and she dodged. He sword smacked against the wall and sent a violent jolt down his arms that numbed them long enough for Hippolyta to kick him in the gut and send him sprawling on the stones. He was skilled, she could tell, but inexperienced. Years of living behind a wall and never engaging in open battle had left its mark on these people. Hippolyta was only eighteen but she had experienced several battles already, killing and maiming other Scythian tribesmen around the lands of the Black Sea. The duel went on and soon enough Hippolyta was certain that Bremusa was safely out of the ballista’s range. Now she could battle for glory. She was tempted to kill Peleus and then begin an attack on his soldiers, thus forcing them to slay her in battle. That would mean reneging on her deal with him and that would blemish her honour. So she would have to die to the executioners axe instead. It was less glorious and less thrilling but it was the more honourable course given the circumstances. There came a shout behind the soldiers. Priam, still in his pyjamas, was running as fast as his old, untrained legs would carry him. Priam: “Stop! Stop! Don’t kill her, Peleus!” Hippolyta smirked. Hippolyta: “As if he could.” She parried his sword as he brought it down on her and he was suddenly left wide open. The horror on his face showed he knew he was dead as she thrust her weapon straight at his gut. There was a solid connection and he let out a cry of pain and anguish before he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. Priam: “NO! NO! NO PLEASE, NO!” Priam shoved his way through but several guards stopped him from putting himself in harm’s way. Priam: “Peleus!” Peleus rolled over, groaning. Hippolyta: “He was honourable enough to fight me and I won. There’s no reason to kill him. He’ll probably feel like dying for several days though. Pummel to the gut. Ouchie.” Priam: “You showed him mercy?” Hippolyta: “Honestly, if he’s like you… I supposed he would have shown me mercy if he’d won. So… I should do the same. Take me to your dungeon, oh king. But please don’t keep the headsman waiting too long. I hate cramped spaces. I’m an open plains kind of girl.” Priam: “To the dungeons with her.” She held her hands up to be bound. Priam: “But I’m sorry to say, you will have to grow accustomed to those cramped spaces, Princess Hippolyta. We will not be taking your head any time soon…” Category:Post Category:Leg Post